To be a hatter or not to be a hatter?
by Mari92
Summary: A hatter is a person that creates hats... Harold Hatter is not a hatter although he creates hats, he will deny to his dying day that fate has arranged anything else for him in life. But then again he hasn't met Howl yet... WARNING: Follows the movie pretty closely!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Market Chipping was in an uproar today, not just because it was the highly celebrated Mayday but also because of the brewing war between Ingary and Strangia on the eastern border. The fates of the soldiers were forgotten in midst of the celebration. A celebration that Harold Hatter found disturbing to say the least.

Harold Hatter, was as his name implied, a hatter. He made hats from little to nothing and sometimes even dresses. He had learned the trade from his father since he was four years old and started out with sewing. His father taught him about the importance of stitches, how you stitched a certain way to make the hat sit together and the thing Harold had loved most of all; decorating. He loved the feathers, the glitter, the flowers and all the colourful bands he could add to his hats. His first ever made hat was a straw-hat with a dull purple band around the base that was hold together by three lilac coloured pearls for his mother. The hat disappeared when she died though three years later.

Harold was the oldest and the only male in his family. After his father's death just a few days short of his fifteenth birthday he had taken over the hat-shop and made a fortune that his stepmother was spending almost as fast as he made the money. He had two little sisters; Letti and Martha, who were the opposite of each other. Where Letti was blonde, Martha was brunette. While Martha was a natural in the kitchen, Letti was an disaster and shouldn't ever be left alone in the kitchen. While Letti could spend hours reading anything or another, Martha wrinkled her nose and simply refused to read anything that wasn't a cookbook.

Harold had taken care of the little ladies since he was but a child himself and he considered it a well done job from his side, especially with the kind of work he had and the age he had been when raising them.

Harold was working in the back of the shop when he heard a knock on the already open door, it had become a habit over the years to leave it open in case Letti or Martha needed help with something. He glanced over to see who it was when he met the face of the gentle old lady he had hired not so long ago.

"Harry, we have closed the shop. You have done enough, why don't you come along with us this time?" Asked the old lady that Harry had forgotten the name of.

Harold also known as Harry, smiled a dry smile at her before saying; "No, I better finish this. This pile of unfinished hats won't do themselves you know." As he gestured halfheartedly against the pile of hats sitting on his work bench.

The old lady's grey eyes swept over the pile of what must have been at least twenty hats that still needed the finishing touch that only Harry as the designer could give. The size of it made the old woman sigh and shake her head. Harry assumed the lovely old woman had given up for the day to include him in what he was sure people called 'socializing'.

"Alright, suit yourself." She said almost resignedly.

Harry mused on the thought that maybe the old lady had finally given up on him. He could only hope. He had never been a social kid, he just didn't feel right in crowds. The only real exception was when he was with his little sisters... That reminded him, what time was it?

Just as Harry was getting up to go watch the antique wall clock that was in the hall, he heard a commotion in his store. '_Didn't they already go?_' Wondered Harry briefly as he made his way into the front. There by the windows, stood his three helpers and the old woman he had hired to stand behind the counter to ring up any purchases the costumer brought.

Harry let the feeling of slight irritation mar his features as he watched them wave through the windows to the soldiers that marched along the streets. He could hear the gossip flowing out of their loose mouths as they stood there and admired the view. A discreet cough brought them back to the here and now and they glanced sheepishly at him when they finally discovered him being behind them. Just as he was about to scold them, they screamed in excitement as they saw Howl's moving castle by the edge of the town. "Look there is Howl's castle!"

"Where?!"

"Howl?"

When he turned to look himself, he just barely caught a glimpse before it disappeared behind the fog that surrounded the mountains to the south.

"He's gone."

"No, he is just hiding from those planes, see?'"

"Did ya hear about that girl, Martha from South Heaven? They say Howl tore her heart out, I'm scared to go out."

"What? You don't need to worry Jean, he only preys on pretty girls." Said one of the helpers impishly.

"Oh, Nellie. You are so mean." Grumbled the one called Jean.

Harry had a serious tick above his right eyebrow and it took all of his experience handling his two sisters to not roar at the helpers to get out. Apparently he had not succeeded to hide his ire as the old lady promptly ushered them out before he could say one word. It left him feeling a little bereft as now he had a lot of anger and nothing to take it out on, he was seriously considering to condemn his hats for the job when he remembered the reason why he left the workroom to begin with.

'_Right, the time. What time was it?_' Harry thought as he wandered into the hall. It was half past four pm and he had promised to be at Cesari's Bakery at five pm sharp to his sister Martha.

He remembered that day with clarity... the day his little sisters were shoveled away to work and discontinue their studies. He had been furious when he had found out but at the time couldn't do anything as his step-mother was in charge of their studies, unfortunately. Harry remembered how angry Letti had been when their mother informed them of her decision and Martha... Well, Martha had been quiet and a quiet Martha was something that Harry didn't like. It was more often than not ending with his sisters in some kind of trouble he needed to get them out of. This time though, he had just hoped the girls would switch with each other when he found out what their mother had in store for the girls. That their mother had actually made such a grievous mistake as giving Letti to a bakery and Martha to a witch, was something that Harold could not grasp.

Harry remembered fondly how his sisters had tried to fool him into thinking Letti was Martha and Martha was Letti. To keep a long story short they didn't succeed at all. Not that surprising as he had been their major influence and he knew his girls pretty well. Every trick in the book he already knew, after all who was it that taught them?

'_Girls._' He thought absentmindedly as he changed into a pair of fresh clothes for the visit. '_Who could understand them?_'

Harry knew from vast experience over the years that even though the people of Market Chipping knew he was a guy, strangers or tourists often mistook him for a girl because of his long ebony black hair carefully braided down to his waist and his almond shaped green eyes. He was short for a guy in modern standards and he knew he had the apparent curves at his hips. He should lay off the sweets Martha sent him regularly; otherwise he might actually develop breasts. His choice of clothing did nothing to discourage the misconception. He wore the usual brown working shirt and the classical wide legged pants, which some mistook for a skirt, as well as his satchel which held his special sewing kit.

He himself could not see the issue when he looked in the mirror but he did take notice when the bastards called soldiers tried to make passes at him. It started not so long ago actually if his memory did not mislead him, now if he didn't have such a violent relationship with the sheriff of Market Chipping then his life would have been peaceful. Harry pondered if he wasn't really unhappy that Sheriff Snape was so aggressive or if he really disliked the man just as much as Snape did him.

By the time Harry roused himself from his thoughts, the antique clock chimed five times. Harry glared at the clock, he was sure it hadn't been thirty minutes since he started ogling himself in the mirror. What more he could have sworn the clock grinned at him in challenge, before he hurried out to not miss the buss for A. A. BEER station. Harry had wondered many times while he traveled by the bus if that actually was the bus stations name or if the bus was simply called that. He had never figured it out as many other vehicles also seemed to have names or destinations on their signboard.

On the way to Upper Folding, a town north of Market Chipping, the bus got jammed in traffic as it was Mayday. 1st of May was always a highly regarded holiday for the workers and if Market Chipping was bad with the few hundred people who lived there, then Upper Folding was ten times worse as it had a population of thousands and everyone was out on the streets to celebrate. Which meant it took way longer to reach the bus station and he had some way to walk before reaching Cesari's Bakery.

Harry realized quite fast that the streets were too crowded and that he would never reach the bakery like this. Taking one of the back roads would probably be better but... was it worth the risks? If he got accosted by a soldier again, there was no telling what he would do and he simply could not afford to get arrested. He was the only one bringing in a true income for his family, though his sisters work they have a five year long apprenticeship which meant there was no earnings from them. Their step-mother did not work and Harry was getting fed up with the woman who took so much out of their needed money to buy expensive things and gloss around in parties. When he turned eighteen next month, he would give her an allowance but only so she could live, nothing more. He had stopped feeling pity for her when she forced his sisters to quit school.

When he saw some old men leer at him, he hastily made his leave and went down the back roads.

''How bad could it be?'' Harold mumbled trying to reassure himself. After all it was just a few streets, what could possibly happen?

oOo

'_Why did I go and jinx myself?_' Harry thought dryly as he clutched the arm of the wizard beside him. It was not every day that he was bothered by more than one officer and rescued by a wizard that was followed by black rubbery things. '_Really... I could almost write a book about my misfortunes._' Harry continued his inner monologue as the black rubbery things multiplied by the second. Harold glanced at the wizard. The man was strangely attractive even if he had a slight cocky attitude that made Harold want to strangle the wizard.

Even if the guy was arrogant in the way he had involved Harry in this strange chase, Harry did admit quietly deep inside that this was exciting. The adrenaline pumping through his veins made him quite light headed and pretty sluggish, so it was no wonder he freaked out when the wizard suddenly flew up at least fifty meters in the air and expecting to hit the ground. Hard.

''Now...'' The man says as if he were talking about the weather over tea. ''Straighten your legs and start walking.''

'_Well, this I certainly wouldn't mind doing again..._' Thought Harold dazedly as they slowly walked upon the thin air as a floor or maybe he should say a staircase as they with every step went a little further down from where they had been.

Harry's mind was working on overdrive, trying to comprehend the fact that he was walking on air. Literally. His brain needed a brake and did the only thing sensible at the time. Harry observed the man who he now knew for sure was a wizard. They were walking on air for heaven's sake!

The first thing Harry noticed about the man was his height, Harry only reached the mans shoulder and that was if you counted his shoes. The second thing he noticed was the clear blue eyes that seemed to have a glimpse of mischief and his blond hair that reached his shoulders. Harry wasn't about to admit to himself that a tiny, really tiny spark flared in his heart. Then the man goes and ruin the moment by saying; ''See, not so hard is it?''

Harry had the urge to hit the man really hard but it was impossible with his hands trapped in the larger hands of the wizard. As if knowing what he was thinking the wizard's sparkling eyes turned towards him and it was as if the other was laughing at him. Frustration raked through him and he was only calmed when the wizard said, "You are a natural." In an earnest tone.

The wizard and the hatter made their way towards Cesari's Bakery. The pace was slow and it didn't feel like they were walking, more like dancing across the sky. Harry was in a daze and everything was magical when he finally made it to the bakery even if it was the bakery's balcony on the third floor.

"I'll make sure to draw them off. Wait a bit before you head outside." Howl said in a tone that Harry couldn't make out. He sounded nonchalant yet stern and Harry answered in what he hoped was what the man wanted to hear.

" Okay."

"That's my girl." Howl smirked before vanishing. That sentence awakened a fury that only one other had ever seen, his father.

Harry was holding a white knuckled grip on the banister, cold emerald eyes searching. The wizard Howl had vanished in the sea of humans celebrating the 1st of May.

'_That man! What nerve! Girl?! Why, when I get my hands on that wizard, he will be sorry!_'

* * *

**_AN:_**

**_Look at that... I uploaded this one, even though it's unfinished. I'll however try to remember to write on this one story as soon as I have time for it. My other story Cielo Pocco takes up my mind right now so it might be a while before that happens._**

**_Concerning my story Werewolves: Wolfgang - I'm starting the seventh chapter and it goes very slowly as I re-write it. I got a lot of good suggestions though and I'll consider them while writing. The poll for helping out is closed and like I said I have started writing the seventh chapter. _**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 is a little rushed, so if you find anything that either sounds a little strange or have a suggestion on how to phrase the sentences better... Well point them out to me and we will see how good we are at editing. Enjoy! - Mari92**

* * *

Chapter 2

Martha Hatter was only ten when she started on her apprenticeship to Mrs Honey, the witch. It hadn't been hard to fool the old granny but Martha still felt a little guilty for fooling such a nice granny.

The switch between the sisters had gone smoothly, except... Well they had the problem of their big brother. He could spot a lie from miles away, at least when it came to her and Letti. It would ruin the whole charade if their big brother could tell which was which. Though annoying as it was, she hoped he wouldn't tell their mother. Otherwise she might get stuck in an old library and forced to read books. Reading! Wasn't that a terrible thought?

When Harry first visited and didn't say anything at all, Martha had naively thought they had succeeded to fool him. But no, he had come back the very next day and asked some pointed questions. There was no way she would know what the Cerbina flower could do. Really, only the bookworm Letti would know about it and that told Martha more than anything. Her big brother couldn't have shown any easier that he knew about the switch without telling her.

Now though, three years later, she was still surprised he had not tattled on her. Presently Martha was working in the kitchen of the bakery in Upper Folding. Madame Cesari was a hard woman to impress, especially when the kitchen wraith Letti had done such a good job destroying the goods and flirting with the customers. Martha had to literally let the cat out of the bag if she would ever be let into the kitchen and Madame Cesari had laughed when she told the tale. It was embarrassing but the result was a warmer welcome and starting on the basics of sweets.

Martha was quite sure she had scared the cook when she had entered with Madame and being forced to teach her. It hadn't taken long however to win back the favor from the staff.

Martha smiled softly at the memory and tried to focus on her work. She had graduated from dish washing to stand behind the counter and ring up the purchases. As she was giving cookies to one of the men that was blocking the counter when another girl called Marina who was also an apprentice in the bakery whispered in her ear.

"He WHAT?!"

o

* * *

o

"Harry!"

The shout made Harry wince uncomfortably where he stood by a window. He was sure all of it had been a dream. There was no way...

"Harry." Breathed Martha, almost sounding scared. Scared of what though, Harry wondered as he turned to his sister.

"What's going on? Marina just told me you floated down into our balcony." She said worriedly checking him over. Harry however smiled as if he had been given a good cup of tea with vanilla cream bun.

"So it actually did happen? It wasn't a dream? I actually floated on air?" Harry questioned dreamily. He had forgotten all about his anger at the wizard temporally when he was reminded that he had waltzed on air. It was a... There was no words to describe the experience, Harry only knew he wanted to dance in the air again. If only he could do so without the wizard... Sigh.

"What are you sighing for?" Martha asked quite irritated by her brother's dopey expression. If her brother had been a girl she would have said he was in love but her brother had a heart of stone concerning women and men alike. She would be surprised if anyone could tackle the stubborn mess that was her big brother.

"Oh, nothing. I just realized I can't kill the bastard." Harry said as they made their way downwards. He didn't know what he would do to the man once he saw him again and with his luck he would defiantly meet the man again.

"Harry! Language." Huffed Martha beside him. Harry just glanced at her and said an ironic; "Oh, my!"

The exact tone of voice sounded so eerily like their mother that Martha couldn't stifle the snort before it escaped her mouth in blatant amusement. Martha and their mother had never really gotten along even though Martha was Fanny Hatter's own blood daughter, though Harry must admit he didn't have any softhearted feelings for that woman either.

They chatted and teased each other while going down the stairs. Martha had them settled by a private corner near the kitchens to talk seriously about everything between heaven and earth, but mostly about Harry's work at the hat shop.

The hat shop had been a sensitive topic when it came to Harold Hatter for as long as Martha could remember. Even though she had tried to talk about it many times before, her big brother always seemed to be in an unexplainable hurry to get away from her when the topic came up. Not this time though! This time she would demand that he speak with her and not just placating her with a poor excuse or ignoring the issue. Because it was an issue, even if Harry didn't see it as such.

Harry was only one man after all and even though he had hired help it was only Harry that worked on the hats themselves. The designing, the sewing, the fitting and the decorating, all of it did Harry do alone in his little narrow workroom. He even slept there on occasion when the really busy seasons came.

Martha and Letti had noticed even if he had tried to hide how hard the toll was on his health when he was forced to work as a hat maker three years ago. He didn't get to sleep, he hardly ate anything and he had so many orders for new hats that it wasn't funny.

Martha's mind brought forth the many memories she had of the nights that Harry had been working nonstop. Now that Martha thought about it, that might have been the reason she started doing chores in the kitchen

It had been a reoccurring nightmare of hers that one day Harry would collapse during work while she and Letti were in school where they wouldn't be notified until they got home. Their father had become ill from doing his occupation and collapsed with no one the wiser, until Harry had found him when he had entered the workroom for an opinion on his newly made hat.

She remembered that Harry started working the day after the funeral was held and had worked relentlessly since then to give her, Letti and their useless mother a comfortable life. Martha wasn't sure what she really felt for her own blood mother but she shared the opinion of Letti that their mother didn't know a squat about honest work as she was spoiled and irresponsible, which forced Martha, Letti and Harry to be responsible even though they were just kids.

An indiscreet cough brought Martha back to the present.

"I think you where up in the clouds, sister." The unmistakeably soft voice of her brother said while gazing at her in apparent joy over her silence. That half smile of his was so irritating and irked her a lot when she was the recipient of it.

"So..." Started Martha after a few moments later. "You never did tell me _how_ you ended up floating down to our bakery's third floor?"

oOo

"Wow! He must have been a wizard then?"

The suddenness of the exclamation from Harry's little sister, startled him pretty badly where he sat on a very uncomfortable box behind a mountain of flour and sugar. The smell of freshly baked goods almost distracted him from the conversation. He really needed to control his urges for sweets.

"Yeah, but the guy was so different from the tales. I certainly didn't expect a tall blond man with a charming face, dressed like nobility to be a wizard. He also saved me the trouble of clobbering up two soldiers." Said Harold a little sullenly. What he would do for a fight to release his frustration.

"Of course he did! He was probably trying to steal your heart, if it had been Howl he would have eaten it." Martha said with a strange conviction. She might not like to read but she sure new her gossip.

Harry himself didn't feel like arguing the point that Howl was a straight wizard that only went after _female_ beauties. Howl probably didn't even know he existed. Why should he? Harry was a plain hat maker in a small village type town while Howl was a first class wizard.

"Are you listening?" Asked Martha when she noticed Harry didn't seem to contribute to her earlier discussion about the witch of the waste or about the war that was brewing in the east and further north.

"Huh?" Was Harry's absentminded reply.

"Argh!" Growled Martha and threw her hands in the air giving the universal signal of giving up. Her brother seemed to be stuck in his thoughts for the time being and Martha was pondering if she should start testing on what could snap him out of it... Just as she had decided to start, she was interrupted by a cute cook with grey-brownish hair telling her that a refilling of the goods was needed at the front of the store. That made Harry come back to life it seemed, because just a moment later he said;

"Well I guess I will be leaving then. I only came here to check how you were doing after all and maybe buy a few sweets before I head home." He smiled and stretched his shoulders and his legs before he and Martha made way to one of the side doors of the bakery.

"Harry, do you really want to spend the rest of your life in that... that old hat shop? Don't say that it was important to father and that you don't mind taking over! I have eyes you know and I can see that you could do something else. Start a new shop, perhaps something that hasn't such a physical drain on your body." Pleaded and hissed Martha while holding his hands, not letting go until she got an answer.

Harry wasn't sure if he should feel complimented on the fact that his youngest sister thought he could do something else besides sewing or offended by how she totally disregarded his male pride. He could take physical blows to his health if it got his family food and gave them something to spend their small allowances on. He wasn't and never has been a fragile glass figure, to be handled so carefully. He was a man even if he didn't have all the stereotype features, his sister at least should know that.

"Martha it's getting late and I'm not in the mood to discuss this. I'll be going now before I miss the bus home. Also, if that boy you were making eyes at makes any kind of advances, I wan to know. Understand?" Grumbled Harry.

"Yes, brother. But Harry, do something for yourself for once!" Yelled Martha when Harry slowly disappeared in the evening.

"Bye, Martha." Was the short reply and Martha barely heard it over the distance.

oIo

* * *

oIo

Harry Hatter was silently fuming on the ride back towards Market Chipping. Not even the wonderful view of the surrounding nature could take his mind off the conversation between him and Martha. What was it with her and Letti thinking he was made of glass? Did they think he couldn't handle their one shop? Or that he didn't want to make hats?

Harry got off the bus and hurriedly went down the darkened streets with only a string of streetlights to illuminate the road.

He hated it when he needed to cross the railway as the railway split the small town in two and his shop laid on the eastern part of town while the bus station being on the western side of town. To cross the railway he needed to go up a narrow staircase, go on the slim bridge that went over the railway and then go down another narrow staircase and if he was really unlucky the train would pass underneath and black smoke would cloud over the bridge so it was down right impossible to see anything. Especially if it was night time, which it was now.

When Harry finally reached the shop he was exhausted.

His anger at his sisters leaving him and he slouched heavily in one of the more comfortable visitors chairs. He needed to think, as the question of what he really wanted to do started to bug him.

What did he want to do? He had never thought about it before, because as far as he had known was that he would inherit the shop, keep it going and perhaps one day marry a nice little girl and start a little family. Did he want such a predictable life? Rather, if everything continued as it was nothing about his fantasy of a family would come true as he had no spare time, not even personal time to be by himself. He just worked and worked... Maybe it was time to do something new?

Just as Harry came to the conclusion that he needed a change, the shops front door opened to admit a very obese woman. The woman was dressed in a very rich and lavish way with mink fur lining her purple clothes. She also wore a hat that seemed to be two meters wide, also in purple and looking like it was made of fur too.

"I'm sorry but the shop's now closed Madame. I could have sworn I locked that door, I must have forgotten." Said Harry as he rose from the chair. Harry wasn't working right now so he didn't need to polite to someone who strolls into his closed shop like she owned it. He was more then certain he had locked that door before sitting down.

"What a tacky shop. I have never seen such tacky little hats, yet by far you are the tackiest thing here." Said the woman in a mocking tone as she glanced around the shop.

Everything that Harry had bottled up since that mourning came to Harry and made him a lot more confident and commanding than he would have been, had this lady come at another time.

"I'm afraid you will have to leave ma'am." He said while going over to the front door before continuing; "The door is over here ma'am. We are closed."

"Standing up to the witch of the waste? That's bold." The woman said still in her mocking tone of voice.

"Witch of the waste?!" Gasped Harry, a little unsure if this woman was sane. She didn't seem to be a witch, well he didn't think that man was a wizard either but still...

Suddenly two of those black thingies that had chased him and that man, came up by the door surrounding him and Harry was readying himself for a fight when a spooky noise sounded. He turned around focusing on the now known witch as she ghosted through him. He didn't feel any different and thought for just a moment that she had just scared him with a threat of a spell before hearing her parting words;

"The best part of that spell is that you can't tell anyone about it. My regards to Howl."

What had she done to him?!

o**_  
_**

**_To be continued..._**

* * *

**AN:  
**

**Cerbina Flower** - Just a plant I cooked up. Will be explained in it's uses later on in the story.

I decided to stop there as otherwise I would write a lot more then I had thought. This story is four pages of writing for every chapter, no more no less. Though now I have a very good start on chapter three! As it's a continuation of the ending of this chapter, because the scene doesn't end there. There was just no more space on the page limit.

I will now continue to write and we will see how fast the next chapter gets out. By the way this chapter was a little rushed. Suggestions on some paragraphs writing or sentences in general is appreciated! Just remember it's within this chapter not outside of it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 is a little rushed, so if you find anything that either sounds a little strange or if you have a suggestion on how to phrase the sentences better... Well point them out to me and we will see how good we are at editing. Enjoy! - Mari92**

* * *

Chapter 3

The silence inside Hatter's Hat shop was what made Harry slowly and cautiously lower his raised arms, which he silently admitted to himself had been an insubstantial shield for whatever the wasteful witch had done to him.

Harry's eyes glanced over the front room that held all the hats he had made and was on for sale. Nothing about them had changed in appearance and the witch hadn't thrashed furniture around it seemed. The walls still had their distinct green color that he had always thought was puke green, a color he was still undecided if the color was beautiful in its own way or if he actually hated the color.

He noticed absently that his old black cap, that he usually didn't wear so often had fallen off the hat stand by the door. He slowly began to reach for it when he saw his hands. His hands were wrinkly, thin and he quickly dropped his old cap on the floor before reaching up to feel his face. His face felt just as wrinkly, crooked and thin as his hands looked.

Hurriedly Harry approached the mirror that was for customers testing the hats. He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the old man in the mirror. His beautiful black hair had turned a smokey grey color, his usually bright and clear green eyes had turned into a duller shade of forest green and his eyes seemed to stand out more. His small button nose had turned into a large crooked thing and his face overall had many wrinkles and lines that had never been there before.

"Th-that's really me, is-isn't it?" Harry gasped before his eyes took on a wild sheen to them. "I gotta stay calm! I gotta stay calm!" He muttered as he made his get away from the mirror. He stopped however by the door that led into the hall before turning back towards the mirror.

He made an overall glance of himself in the mirror, confirming what he saw just a few minutes ago. The old man in the mirror was him and Harry could slowly feel the panic trying to sink its claws on him. He turned away from the mirror walking out to the back yard that connected his apartment and the store, all the way saying; "No use in panicking Harold! It's a nightmare, that's all. Go inside, go to bed... You are gonna be fine Harry, you are gonna be fine..."

oOo

Market Chipping in the morning was always filled with soft noises and filled with life. Today was no exception and Harry still didn't know what to do. He had been awake all night trying to figure out what he should do.

The helping hands had already arrived and was working, he could hear them tittering about this and that. The old madame he had hired bustling through the store handling the customers that arrived to the shop and telling the other girls to start working, as they hadn't seen Harry yet and didn't want to get his wrath as soon as he arrived. They would wait for a long time because Harry had no plans whatsoever of making an entrance looking like he did this moment.

The sound of a steam driving car that stopped just outside the shop made Harry cringe inside. Why of all days would _she_ come here? Wasn't she newly married and lived in Kingsbury with her new husband? Was the thoughts running through Harry's mind as he rose from his bed and locked the door. His stepmother had no real notion of privacy and he really couldn't show himself now, not when he was still undecided on what to do.

The loud voice saying; "Look who is here!" Got Harry out of his thoughts as he settled upon his bed again. He could hear their whole conversation through the floor and wasn't that a relief when he had some forewarning when his stepmother called for him.

"Harold?" Yelled Fanny Hatter while she stalked up the stairs. "Harold?" She yelled again while knocking on his locked door.

"Don't come in! I have really bad cold. I don't want you to catch it." Lied Harry through his teeth not that his mother would see it on the other side of the door.

"You sound ghastly! Like some ninety year old man." Said Fanny with a surprised tone of voice. Of course she would be surprised, his voice had also become old like him. Deep and a little rusty, perfect for an old man but that sound from an eighteen year old? Yep, he could perfectly understand her surprise.

"I'll be staying in bed all day, so you go on." Harry said again almost gritting his teeth with the lie. He was bad at lying as his face always gave him away but when people could not see his face, then his lies was almost as good as truth.

"Well, if you insist." His stepmother said with a high pitch while walking down the staircase.

Harry felt relief that she didn't like sickness or sick people in general, otherwise he would have had a hard time to get her away from the blasted door. He slowly rose from his bed again and made his way to his small wall mirror above his wash basin and jug of water.

"Now this isn't so bad, now is it?" Harry said to his mirror. "You are in seemingly good shape and your wardrobe finally suit you." He said with a smile before continuing with a frown, "But you can't stay like this for long..."

Harry quickly dressed himself in traveling clothes, a white shirt with grey trousers and a mottled grey jacket. He looked like an old man now but it seemed he couldn't get away from his feminine curves even with age. He took his old black cap on his now grey head and looked back into the mirror. '_Now, what do you need when you travel?_' Wondered Harry where he stood in his room. Clothes, food, something to sleep on if he couldn't find some place to stay before nightfall... Perhaps a walking stick if he would go up the mountains that was the fence around the Waste.

It might be windy up there, should he bring a thick coat with him and shoes... Did he have some boots around here?

* * *

After an hour or so, Harry had made a pack consisting of; two shirts, two pair of under clothes, two pair of trousers, another pair of shoes as he decided to wear his boots while traveling, a small bedroll he had found in his wardrobe, three blankets, one pocket knife, his sewing kit, matches and the rest of the space was reserved for food.

He hadn't realized that it would be so much he would need and this was all he could lift. Actually it was a little heavy but it wouldn't stop him at all. He would travel by the mountains and he would survive the travel and if he could make it to the witch's hideout in the waste he would count himself lucky.

Harry cautiously opened his door and looked both ways before hauling his knapsack with him out into the corridor. His back made a cracking noise that sounded a little more ominously then it actually was. It still hurt though.

"Being old is actually worse than I thought." Muttered Harry on his way to the kitchen part of his home. He avoided everyone on his way there with a skill that every old person seemed to know. He hadn't met anyone on his way down the stair or in the corridors, which was a strange bough of luck he hadn't had for a long time now.

When he reached the kitchen, he quietly roamed between the shelves and cabinets containing food. He decided that he would take two loafs of bread, one-quarter cheese, one-quarter sausages and three jars containing honey. That, he thought, would last him three days in the mountains before he needed a new sort of food source.

Harry crept out of the side door, coming out on a side alley. He heard loud gossiping of the days latest news. The Prince of Ingary had disappeared and the King thought that his enemies had kidnapped him, was that the reason for the war that brewed in the east? Wondered Harry as he slowly but surely made his way to the other side of the train tracks.

He made his way to the great square of Market Chipping, trying to find someone who was going to the west. It was a hard searching before he finally found a kind soul that was going the same way he wanted to travel. He rode on the back of a carriage filled to the brim with hay.

Harry was almost out of the towns border and he was walking on a faint trail toward the mountains that fenced in the waste, that was his destination. He just needed to climb this mountain first though.

Some walking later...

Harry decided to rest his legs and eat a little. The view of Market Chipping from his perch was grand, though it wasn't really encouraging when he tried to get away from the town. The town was still so close!

Harry sighed and mumbled tiredly to himself; "I'll never get there with these legs. At least my teeth haven't worn out yet." As he glanced briefly to his left, he saw a tree branch sticking out of a bush. 'How convenient, that branch would make a great cane.' Harry thought as he painstakingly raised himself from his perch. His back making cracking noises as he tried to straighten out a little before going to the nearby bush.

"It might be a little to big." Harry pondered out loud as his wrinkly hands reached the for the branch. Harry tried to simply break the branch at first but it still held on to the bush and after trying and gripping it differently a few times Harry was beginning to get a little frustrated.

"What a stubborn branch!" He breathed out between breaths. "You're not going to get the best of this old man!" He threatened and gave a mighty heave, to his surprise the sturdy branch he was trying to break from the bush turned out being a scarecrow!

"You are just a scarecrow!" Harry puffed while breathing in wonderful air to his lungs. "I was scared that you were one of those blob men... How do you stand on your own like that?" He said while staring at the scarecrow. The scarecrow's head was a turnip! He hated turnips with passion, at least the scarecrow wasn't in the bush anymore. Which he told the scarecrow before he went up for the mountain again.

The wind was starting to get chilly and stronger the further up the mountain he came. He contemplated if he needed to wrap himself in a blanket, when he looked over his shoulder and despaired a little that the town had hardly moved since he started walking again.

A strange sound made him stop and listen in the roaring of the wind. It sounded like a ticking, like the one his old clock had when the night was silent. As there wasn't anything in front of him, he glanced over his shoulder again. There in the distance below was the scarecrow jumping up and down, following him.

"Go away! Quit following me, you don't need to thank me! You don't owe me a thing! I'm sure you have some kind of spell on you and I've had more than enough of witches and spells. So just go and find some field and stand in it!" Yelled Harry through the winds roaring.

He needed to rest a little. This path was steeper then he had thought. Harry was brought out of his heavy breathing by a smack sound, right next to him. There beside him stood a cane! Had the scarecrow given it to him? That was awfully kind of it, he really needed it. The cane had a birdlike handle but it was the perfect size for him.  
"Thank you, this cane is perfect. It's just what I needed! If you want to do me one more favor, could you run off to find me some place to stay?" Harry said to the scarecrow and it seemed the scarecrow understood because he started to jump away.

"Well, I seem to become quite cunning in my old age." Harry chuckled dryly as he continued his way up the mountain. The peak should be close now, he thought as the sun began to go down.

* * *

Harry finally decided to rest on the faint path he was on. The daylight was disappearing and he could hardly see what was in front of him. He sat there on the faint pathway and huddled under one of his blankets that he had with him inside the knapsack.

He really wanted to light a fire but with the way the winds were blowing it would be neigh impossible to have a big warm fire going. It would blow out long before he had the wood needed to keep it going and in his already exhausted body he would never get enough fire wood before he fell asleep.

It must have been his thoughts on fire that made him smell the smoke. There wasn't anyone living right here on the mountain because of the threat of that blasted witch, so where came the smoke?

Suddenly the earth began to shake and vibrate, Harry almost thought there was an earthquake with how much the earth shook when he saw, with his very own eyes, the strangest and most hideous metal creature he had ever seen. It took him a fem moments to have enough wits to realize this was Howl's Castle.

"You Turniphead! That's Howl's castle, that was not what I meant when I asked for a place to stay!" Roared Harry while the castle whirred, clicked and puffed smoke.

The castle seemed to begin to move past Harry and the scarecrow that Harry had begun to call Turniphead. The scarecrow jumping after the castle and standing before a door, giving Harry the clue that, that was the door that would let him in.

Harry began to run after the castle, trying to reach the door so he could at least warm up some.  
"Slow down! For heaven's sake, make up your mind! Will you let me in or not?" Harry yelled up at the door that was just out of reach, before suddenly he was on the porch holding the door's handle in a white knuckled grip so he didn't fall off the porch while the castle moved.

His blanket flew away in the distance but all Harry's concentration went to open the blasted and stubborn door. When the door finally opened, Harry glanced back to the scarecrow and said his goodbyes before entering the warm and slightly dark castle.

The darkness of the room Harry entered, was not as scary as he had thought it would be because of a simmering fire, that cast both light and shadows on everything within the room. The fire, Harry saw, was beginning to become embers so he searched for a few moments before finding the place the firewood was next to the fireplace. Two new and dry chopped wood made the fire bigger and warmer, so warm that Harry placed himself into a chair in front of it.

"What a dump." Harry said while his eyes took in the room he was in. Dust, spiders, webs, piles of ash, grease and other unidentified things that Harry didn't want to know what it was. "When I think castle, this isn't what I pictured." Harry mumbled quietly to himself. "Oh well, the nice thing about being old is that nothing seems to frighten you."

The sluggish way the fire flowed and warmth trickling into Harry's bones and considering that he hadn't slept for the last forty-eight hours, it was no surprise that the warmth made him very sleepy and so dull that he didn't notice how the fire began to change. First you could see the outlines of a face with two red eyes, a mouth and a slight opening that could go as a nose. Then you would see how the fire grew bigger and bigger, until you could clearly discern the whole face.

"I don't envy you sir, that's one though curse you've got there. Curses are though, you will have a hard time to get rid of that one."

Harry's mind as slow as it was, jerked awake at sound of a voice coming out of nowhere. Then his eyes widened into saucers again for perhaps the fifth time that day, to what looked to be a fire with a face and two small arms made of a yellow and red fire.

"The fire spoke!"

"Let me guess, the curse won't allow you to talk about it, am I right?" The fire said in a somewhat smug voice.

"Are you Howl?" Wondered Harry stupidly as the fire looked incredibly insulted by being called the name Howl.

"No! I'm an extremely powerful fire demon, named Calcifer!" The fire said arrogantly and all Harry wanted was to chuckle. The way the so called demon, both on how he said and how he looked while saying it reminded him of his friend Draco. Actually Draco was a rich mans son, son of a duke or something and that made Draco the most sought after man in Market Chipping. Harry and Draco had become friends on a slump but the fire's attitude reminded him greatly of the Draco in the past that he just wanted to laugh at the memories.

"A fire demon, you say? Then you should be able to break my curse," Harry began with hope shining brightly in his green pools for eyes.

"Maybe, maybe not. Listen, if you can break the spell on me then I'll break the spell on you. You got it?" Was Calcifer's cocky reply.

"If you are a fire demon, how do I know I can trust you? Will you promise to help me if I help you?" Harry grinned behind his blanket, that he got back from Turniphead before entering the castle. Which he still had divided views on if it really should be called a castle with the way everything was in one big mess.

"Ah, I don't know sir. Demons don't make promises." Calcifer said vaguely and squinted a little at the old man in front of him.

"The go and find someone else." Was Harry's reply to that. He knew he had the advantage here, the demon could apparently not leave the castle and who knew how long the fire demon would have to wait for next person to come by?

"Oh, come on! You should feel sorry for me! That spell keeps me stuck here in Howl's castle, Howl treats me like a slave! I need to keep the water hot, the rooms warm..." Ranted Calcifer while Harry just calmly listened and slowly began to fall into a slight doze in the chair.

"If you can break this _thing_ I'm in with Howl, I can easily break the spell on you." Calcifer pleaded.

"Alright, it's a deal." Harry said quietly before falling into a deep sleep.

"Hey, sir? Sir, hey sir? Let me just get over there... Hey, SIR?" Calcifer shouted trying to wake the old man. The old man was dead to the world it seemed.

"Great! Some big help you are gonna be..."

* * *

**Chapter 3 is done a lot earlier than I thought it would take... Well, I hope you enjoy it!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four is short but hopefully you will like it anyway.**

* * *

_**Chapter Four**_

The sound of a loud banging noise was what woke Harry up from his very strange dream about tiny people trying to steal his sewing kit and him searching like a madman after it while those tiny people tried to figure out what a needle could be used for. Very strange indeed...

Harry tried to get his bearings and he wondered absently who in their right mind would be knocking on the door this early in the morning. He hadn't even drunk his tea yet and all who knew him, knew that he wasn't a pleasant person before he had drunk his morning tea. Harry stretched a little and his entire body cracked in various places, sounding like he was breaking his bones and hurting just as much if not more as the dull ache didn't disappear after stretching.

Harry glanced over the room he was in and concluded that he was in some type of kitchen and living room. Though the kitchen area was filled to the brim with unwashed dishes, clothes hanging here and there and what probably should be the dining table was completely covered with food, dishes, books and what else that could be under all that clutter. The shelves around the room was perhaps supposed to have books in them, but they were in as much disorder as the rest of the room.

He hadn't noticed it in the dark last night, but there in the corner was a staircase, a little ways from the big round hearth that Harry only noticed now looked very much alike a fish's chopped off head. It was kind of cool, Harry thought, the hearth and warm fire was inside it's open mouth looking like it was going to swallow the fire. It was quite the masterpiece.

The annoying knocking took on a new and rougher sound to it and Harry wanted to just ignore whoever was so rude to knock at... Actually, what time was it? Harry frowned trying to see if there was any kind of clock nearby, that's when he heard it. The sound of running footsteps coming closer and closer, soon Harry could hear someone thundering down the stairs. Harry swiftly closed his eyes and pretended he was still dead to the world and let out some small snores just to ascertain that he was asleep and nothing would disturb him.

The suddenness of a young voice saying; "Hey, who is this old man?" Almost made Harry give himself away. He squinted one eye open and he was nearly giving himself away again by sheer relief. It was just a boy, about Martha's age, he reckoned. The boy was a little short with light brown hair and he was dressed in what most apprentices to wizards wore these days. A white lofty shirt, a green vest, brown trousers, white socks, brown shoes and to just top the attire he wore a small red bow beneath the white shirt collar.

"Porthaven door, Michael." Calcifer said dryly from the hearth. The boy didn't seem to take any notice of Calcifer because he stopped by the chair Harry sat and wondered curiously out loud; "How did he get in here?"

"Open the door Michael!"

"Yeah, yeah... I'm on my way already." Was the cheeky answer before the boy headed towards a table where a strange dark cloak laid before dressing himself in it. To Harry's surprise, after the boy had the cloak on, he looked like a small dwarf with beard and everything. The only thing missing from the picture was the ax that the classical dwarf always had in the stories.

"Standby." The boy, Michael said before opening the door. Harry was listening with a half ear when the door gave a small 'tching' noise. Doors doesn't make those noises, do they? Harry wondered before he laid a couple of logs on the hearth Calcifer to eat. The conversation between the visitor and the boy wasn't really worth listening to as they spoke about the king and the war that was going to happen soon. Nothing new, not that Harry was particularly interested in what would happen but he did worry for his sisters and his own survival if the worst came to pass.

"I can't believe it has come to this." Harry grumbled to himself as he took of his jacket, the heat of the room starting to bother him. He could feel his stomach growling for food and his eyes gave the random groceries a suspicious glance. Eggs, bacon, onions, bread and did he see some kind of tea leaves over there?

"What do you think you are doing here grandpa?" Said a muffled voice behind him.

"Calcifer said that I could come in." Harry replied while making a mental 'to do' list. There was a lot to do about this room and it would probably be a good idea to watch out for the rest of the so called castle.

"I did not! He wandered in from the waste." Calcifer whined and Harry gave the fire a glance that spoke of disbelief. Harry would never have imagined that the fire was whining about him of all things, especially when he was an accomplice in the first place.

"From the waste? How do you know he isn't a wiz?" Michael wondered absently as he took off his disguise.

"Do you think I would let in a wizard in here?!" Calcifer's scandalous tone of voice was almost comical if Harry counted in that Calcifer actually was a fire demon, a powerful one at that and he was whining about him? Ridiculous.

Suddenly there was another 'tching' noise before someone knocked on the door. This time it was a customer, a little girl going on an errand for her parents it seemed. Harry dismissed the girl as unimportant before heading towards one of the windows, what he saw was something large and blue... Was that the ocean? He had never seen the sea before and his mind was spinning on the impossible thought that he was no in the wastes anymore. Frankly the thought scared him somewhat.  
Harry was surprised by how many people came and went to the castle, or was this part of the castle a shop? So many questions and so few answers, Harry's curiosity was beginning to tingle at everything he had found out in just about fifteen minutes or less. The door seemed to be a portal of sorts, because no one had a door called Porthaven or Kingsbury, which was the place the door opened up to on the third person knocking.

"Argh, I need some breakfast!" Said Michael after the fifth customer. Harry watched as the boy took some bread and cheese from the counter Harry had noticed before.

"Don't you want some bacon and eggs?" Harry asked while overlooking the small stand by the table that had bacon, eggs, carrots, onions, leeks, some yams, potatoes, apples, butter and bread laying in a heap. They had obviously never heard of a cooler or a pantry to contain their food. Well, that will just be added to his already long list of things to do after breakfast.

"Well, yeah... But we can't use the fire when master Howl isn't here." Michael says while trying to clear the table enough for room to sit and eat.

"Don't worry Michael, I can cook. Do you have kettle somewhere too? I think I would like some tea." Harry said with a gentle smile while reaching for the old looking pan with a long handle. First he would cook up a big breakfast then he would clean out this castle and if he met this mysterious Howl while cleaning, well that was just a bonus. Hopefully he wouldn't find any actual skeletons in the castle and the mysterious wizard wouldn't be any of them if he did.

"It doesn't matter if you can cook!" Michael looking thoroughly affronted by the insinuation that he himself couldn't cook. "Calcifer only obeys master Howl and master Howl's almost never in anyway..."

Harry turned toward Michael so fast that the boy took a step back in order to not be smacked with the pan. "He lets you starve?!" Yelled Harry in an incredulous tone of voice. The fury that settled over Harry's face when the boy hesitantly nodded his head in admission to Harry's statement.

"But, he doesn't starve me sir... There is bread and cheese over there by the cabinet." Michael tried to explain but fell flat when his eyes met the hard and cold eyes the old man.

"Neglect, then. Michael, you need to eat a lot more than just bread and cheese, you know? You are what? Thirteen years old? You need vegetables, meat and a lot of other stuff to grow big." Harry said in a no nonsense tone while he turned his still cold eyes onto the fire in the hearth. "Calcifer, we need to talk later. How about you let me cook and you will get whatever we don't eat?"

"No. I don't cook." Said Calcifer petulantly in a childish pout you could barely discern in the fire's face.  
"How would you like a bucket of cold water in you face? Or should I tell Howl about our bargain?" Harry said threateningly and waggled the pan close by the hearth.

"Why, oh?! I should never have let him in here!" Grumbled Calcifer in that annoyingly childish way.

"How will it be?" Harry wondered with the pan just about above the fire. "That's a good fire demon." Smiled Harry as he laid three bacons in the pan to roast and the wonderful smell of the fat cooking away from the meat was mouth watering.

"Here's another curse, may all your bacon burn!" Muttered Calcifer still angry about being told what to do by this strange old man. Michael however still stood by the table and had been watching the drama unfolding in front of him but he couldn't hear clearly what the old man said to Calcifer, but whatever he said made the fire obey him.

oOo

* * *

'Where is she?' Wondered a lone man as he stalked the streets of Upper Folding. The man was searching all over the city for that one girl that he met one month ago on Mayday.

'Really, I should have asked for her name!' The man thought as he went past the bakery that he had escorted her to. He hadn't seen her for a month and apparently no one knew who he asked about when he described the girls features. There had been one girl though, too young for his tastes though, who appeared to know who he talked about but she had told him that the 'girl' he was searching for lived in Market Chipping and that her last name was 'Hatter', the oldest of three children.

The girl had looked at him funny when she said the word 'girl' though and the name of his interest. Was she popular with the men around? Then he would need to make haste and go to Market Chipping! But, not today. It was already afternoon and he had a castle to run and prince to find.

Too bad the man didn't know that his love interest was safe and sound in his castle, cooking a large breakfast for his apprentice and himself...

* * *

**Well, that was it for now. October soon finished and November is soon starting... I'll not sit and write for awhile as I really need to focus on my school work. Also I'm busy with editing another author's story, which is very good by the way.**

**Have a nice day!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five is more of a filler than anything.  
**

* * *

_**Chapter Five**_

"_The more I learn, the more I see... The less the world impassions me.  
The hungry heart, the roven eye... has come to rest, do not apply._" Sang a voice almost quietly in the early mourning, accompanied by the rhythmic clang of different pots and pans in the small kitchenette.

Michael decided it was nice to wake up to someone singing downstairs. It had such a nice tune and the usual disturbing noise of cutlery banging in the sink that he would have groaned into his pillow of hearing, seemed to be filtered away in the song. Almost like the sound was there only to contribute the singing voice, that Michael only recognized blearily as Harry Hatter. Harry had a very nice voice for singing, but he didn't sing often and only if he thought no one was listening.

"_A frantic chase, a crazy ride...  
The thrill has gone, I step aside...  
I'd believe in anything were it not for you,  
Showing me by just existing oh how this is true.  
I love you. I love you, without question. I. Love. You._" Continued the same voice, in the same quiet manner that was Harry. This song filled Michael with a sort of warmth and gave him energy. He glanced at the clock in the corner and yelped when he realized he had overslept. The clock was past noon, he had never slept so long before.

"Michael? Your breakfast is ready, you should eat while it's still hot!" Came Harry's familiar yell from the bottom of the stairs. How Harry knew he was awake now and not before was a mystery to Michael and he had still not figured out why the old man didn't wake him up if he was late for work. The answer to that, Michael realized was the figure sitting at the clean table when he came down. Right there in front of him sat his master Howl and was peacefully drinking tea while seemingly observing Harold at the hearth.

"Good morning Harry, master Howl and you too Calcifer." Greeted Michael totally unaware of the tension between his master and his friend Harry as he seated himself by the table.

oOo

_Earlier..._

Harry was humming as he quickly cleaned away the ash before it could build up to another mountain in the hearth. He had decided that today was a good day to do laundry but before that he needed to find the iron hook to handle the big cauldron needed to boil the water and get more firewood. Seriously, Michael only did magic and nothing else. Harry would have to teach the boy how to chop wood soon because taking care of all the chores were tiring, even if the chores got smaller after the big clean out a month ago.

Calcifer was quietly observing from his place in the hearth as Harry scurried around the room, picking up vegetables to lay on the small kitchen counter in the corner of the room. The demon continued to watch as Harry chopped the vegetables up and laid in a small pot, which he later placed near the fire to cook. The old man was cooking lunch by the smell of the vegetable soup in front of him and apparently the man was lost in his own world because he didn't notice the slight shadowed figure entering through the front door nor did he notice that said figure was soon standing right behind him.

Harry oblivious as he was continued to hum and alternate sing a song which simply filled the room with a glow of warmth.

"_The more I learn, the more I see... The less the world impassions me.  
The hungry heart, the roven eye... has come to rest, do not apply._" Sang Harry as he continued to bustle between the hearth and the kitchenette. He was almost finished with the soup and the laundry water was nice and boiling, the only thing Harry would need to do right at the moment was to bring the clothes and sheets.

"_A frantic chase, a crazy ride...  
The thrill has gone, I step aside...  
I'd believe in anything were it not for you,  
Showing me by just existing oh how this is true.  
I love you. I love you, without question. I. Love. You._" Continued Harry as he closed his eyes and turned around only to walk right into a wall of flesh.

"You have a nice voice. Oh, ho... Calcifer? You are being so... obedient." Said a familiar teasing voice yet Harry didn't dare to open his eyes. How did _that man_ find this castle?!

The fire demon bristled and crackled ominously in response from his place in the hearth. For just a moment Harry entertained the thought that the fire demon would break free from the fireplace and attack the man in front of him.

"I'm not obedient! The old man bullied me!" Sulked Calcifer.

"Hm, not just anyone can do that..." Mused the unknown man and Harry was debating whether if he should open his eyes or not, because if he confirmed that the man was that bastard he met one month ago he wasn't sure what he would do. "Who are you?" Continued the infuriating man without missing a beat.

Harry slowly opened up his eyes and said; "You can call me Mr Hatter and if you could please move away, I have a lunch to serve, laundry to clean and a young man to wake up." Without waiting for an answer back, he yelled; "Michael? Your breakfast is ready, you should eat while it's still hot!" Before going to a pretty wide basket filled with white sheets, blankets and clothes.

The man sat himself on a chair by the table while looking both confused over Harry's presence and glancing around the very orderly and clean room. Soon the telltale sounds of Michael moving above was heard and Harry laid the table. There was a big kettle with tea, one loaf, one jar with strawberry jam, a wide jar containing butter and the big pot with vegetable soup. The blond man served himself a cup of tea at the time when Michael finally arrived.

"Good morning Harry, master Howl and you too Calcifer."

oOo

'_Mr Hatter..._' Howl pondered as he watched his apprentice and the apparently old man. He would have thought the man a woman if not for Calcifer saying he was a man. '_Actually, this man looks familiar..._' Was his internal thought as he listened to Michael babble about the demands of the king's men. '_Where have I met him before?_'


End file.
